The wit's way out
by Rain of Glass Shards
Summary: Ed contemplates on his past, and come to a conclusion to end the nightmares. Full of self loathing, Edward wants to end his life. But someone won't allow it, is forcibly keeping him alive, stopping his attempts. That someone is Roy Mustang.
1. Chapter 1 Drunken stupor, a bleeding arm

Author: I know I'm literally killing myself here writing 4 fics, having to update for most, but the idea for a new FMA fic couldn't leave my head, and I truly wanted to write it.

It's been long since I've written a suicide related fiction. Last time I did was more than a year ago, and I left it because I didn't like it. Well, save for the D.N.Angel one. I dropped that one shot because the manga-ka never released the 12th. Anyhowww-

This is the beginning, not an epilogue, but the first chapter of a new suicidal, Yaoi, rated M, fic that is long enough for reading pleasure. Now, before I begin, I'd like to ask for comments in advance, and corrections.  
And here's a summary if your A.D.D/A.D.H.D made you forget what your reading.  
Also, cookies are appreciated, I just won't eat them. But I will make a tower with them, then knock em down. Then re-do the process out of sheer boredom...

WARNING: If you hate yaoi, don't think ROY and EDWARD should be together, think suicide fics are dumb, don't want to review so that I could update, can't bear to read a page (i'll save it for some who don't wanna know), then turn now.

Summary:

Ed contemplates on his past, and come to a conclusion to end the nightmares. Full of self loathing, Edward wants to end his life. But someone won't allow it, is forcibly keeping him alive, stopping his attempts. That someone is Roy Mustang.

* * *

He awoke with a start. His golden blond bangs swayed over his down-cast face. His body was soaked with sweat, that he couldn't understand because it was nearly below zero outside, and he was shirtless.

He settled his facial composure, taking notice that he stared wide at his blue army covers.

The boy scoffed, punching his cheek lightly.

Someday he would have to grow up. Someday, when he did, those dreams would have to banish.

Edward came with the solution for that was growing up, but now that seemed to have fallen into the pit of wrong choices.

The now seventeen year old sighed, falling back into his large pillow.

And he had grown. Now only by age, but by height. He was no longer below the five foot measure. Now he stood at a reasonable enough five foot five. Yet still, he sighed. Yet still the Colonel found ways to swerve into the confines of Ed's patience and bite him in the ass with another insult.

He looked around the dark room. He could tell it was empty without having to get up and search. And he granted it with every cell in his body.

This loneliness was not depressing, it was amazing.

Edward could get up when he wanted, eat what and when he wanted, say whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted, go wherever he wanted, and not have a nagging suite of armor tailing him with righteousness.

No, Edward would never regret what he did, run his brother out of the dorm, and into a shelter in Risembool with the Rockbell's. It did seem harsh, and the people at HQ had their doubts that he would go on like this, but he did, and that was that.

The freedom. This freedom.

His smile dropped, and he looked out the window, the sky as dark as his boots. The stars played a rhythm, playing hide and seek behind gray clouds. The only light was from a street lamp post near the entrance of HQ dorms.

He groaned, ruffling his long blond hair with his flesh arm.

Edward wasn't tired at all, so what better to do than-

First his pants other his blue gray checkered boxers. A belt to secure them from falling. His black tank top, then his long sleeve over shirt.

Lazily he combed his hair into an unbraded ponytail, not having to look at his reflection to know it was right and neat.

Walking to the heap of clothing by the closet, he grabbed a pair of black socks.

Once they were on his feet, he slipped on his big boots.

Finished and ready, Edward head to the door. So, what better to do than explore town?

* * *

He walked down the stairs softly, making sure the stairs didn't creak enough to signal his leave. These nappers at the HQ dorms always had a tendency to snitch something out when they knew something. That's why he decided to rent a dorm on the third floor. Besides, what can people hear from up there other than his stomps, something he never did, unless he was in an argument on his phone, or has an unpleasant visitor.

Out came a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding. He made it to the entrance door, no one was at the desk, and the lobby was completely empty, dead silent.  
He found the moment he reached for the knob fortunate. Edward left handed, stuck it out to grab, instead of his right, creaking, automail arm that would have surely caught some ears.

Slowly, but not too enough to wail the hinges into a cry of rust, he opened the door and angled himself through the small opening. Once out completely, he closed the door quickly, holding back before accidentally slamming it.

He sighed, both from held back anticipation and victory. But before such a small, unnecessary victory could take such place, he would have to get out from prying dorm windows that seemed to linger over him, whispering words of knowing.

But, he shook his head, since when did he care for the little things? Roy prohibited that any alchemist leave because of the murder of a young girl of seven who died due to illegal use of alchemy.

As the boy dashed down the streets into dark ally ways he looked to the sky. He didn't remember using alchemy for murder was actually illegal.

The though lingered in the cloudiness of his mind. Why was it illegal? Murder, sure, it was made out to be illegal years ago, or at least until someone with a sense said so. But alchemy was a skill. None of it's techniques should be labeled illegal.

From what he heard the girl was skinned. Only her insides and naked carcass lay on the array of a transmutation circle. No doubt, from the array, it was due to alchemy. But a normal being could've done the same with his own hand.

He shook. What was he thinking? Why was he thinking like that?

Edward had given his life up a long time ago. But that gave him no reason to believe that the girls death should be pushed aside, or that alchemy was to truly blame for homicidal actions that could've been done by anyone.

Gasping for breath, Ed stopped his running, bending over, his hands pushing the knees of his shaking leg. A buzzing noise that came from over his head caught his attention.

A small store stood before him. It was lit up, lively people inside smoking, talking, swaying.

* * *

He read the name, twitching slightly for his small mistake. This was no store, it was Sharona's Bar.

In this land, where he lived, in this city, unlike others in the world, he was a legal age. By that, he was legal enough to drink the night away. But before he walked through those doors, he was clever, sober enough to have his second thoughts.

Surely, Sharona's Bar wasn't as famous as most. But how could he not guarantee that people from his work weren't sitting there now? It was in fact really close to the dorms. But then again, be had their pride, something Ed was lacking, and they would never enter a bar named Sharona's Bar.

They'd piss off, calling it too girl, or something like that, and go to the extent of walking a block or two farther just to go to some place call Cronaham's Bar.

If he remembered correctly, Hughes, long ago, had invited Edward to go on a drinking binge one night, -because Elysia yelled at him because he was practicing his aim with one of her dolls-, at a place called Cronagam's Bar. Edward hesitated a decline, mentioning that he was underage.

In other words, he might actually be in the gray. He walked to the bar doors, poking his head in to check if anyone he recognized, be it his dorm building or HQ, was here.

A smirk crept on the teens face. He waltzed in, the black cloud of fear in his chest clearing off.

How he loved his freedom so.

"A keg of vodka." Edward called out, sitting onto of the the tall stools.

A rather round, but husky man of around fifty turned his neck around, looking at Ed over hid shoulder. His big hands lingered on the shelf of alcoholic beverages. He gave a stoic face, and turned to the blond.

"Havn I see ya before lad?" The man asked, his brow arched, looking down at the sitting customer.

"Doubt it." Ed mumbled. It was true. He'd never been here in his life, or a bar at that. He believed that the bar tender didn't ask the customer questions, and he wanted to have such service served to him. "Now may I please have what I asked for?" Edward said, not holding back the inpatient bitterness of his young voice.

The man nodded quickly, forgiving his lack of tending. He yanked the cotton cloth off his shoulder, placed it on the bottom shelf of the colorful drinks, and reached for the beverage.

He sighed looking down to the cradled bottle in his large hands. Turning to Edward, he gave an unsure look.

"You sure you can take this in?" The man asked, setting the bottle before Ed, leaning against the counter.

"Yeah, why ask, hm?" Ed spat. This was edging towards memories of Roy's daily plumage.

The bartender sighed, running a hand over his shaved head, back and forth, neck to forehead. "It's just that, you ain't look like a person to be able to. Ya'know, cuz your-"

"What? Short?!" Edward yelled, catching the attention of other around. He wasn't even drunk, and he sounded nearly tipsy.

"No-No!" The man quickly answered, waving his hands out. "I meant you don't look tough. Ya' kno-" He paused, choosing his words carefully this time. Of course the blond didn't know. He nearly chopped the man's head off when he said so last time. "You look sortsa thin boy."

Last time Edward checked, body mass didn't really matter.  
Sue, from HQ, was an anorexic. She would drink all the time, allowing only alcoholic calories in her thin body. She never told Edward that she had been ridiculed from alcohol because of her weight or body. And her death had nothing to do with drinking.

"So?" Ed finally answered. He looked to the bottle, grabbed it, and uncapped it. "I'll do it myself." He grumbled.

"Boy, you sure about that? You wanna take Vodka in a keg?" The man looked astonished. Who was this brave youth? "Normally, you take shots."

To hide his embarrassment, Ed glared at the empty keg. He snapped his head up, looking at the man with flaming eyes. "Yes, I am sure, very much so in fact! And you know what? Get me some Whiskey and Brandy."

Edward had no, zilch, nada knowledge of which alcohol was the strongest, the nastiest, or the way it was served. However, what he did know was that the idea of getting drunk and forgetting himself in the whirlpool of ecstasy, began to sound addictive.

He poured the vodka down into the large cup. Ed almost asked why it wasn't fizzing at the brim like most pictures advertising drinks, almost, but kept it to himself.

The bar tender brought the other two drinks, staring at Ed with wide eyes as he saw him place the keg under his nose, gazing at the sticky looking liquid.

The golden blond took a whiff of the Vodka, not being able to hold back a squirm. His tongue danced in his mouth. It smelled like medicine! And no the pleasant ones.

"It's best you not smell it." The man advised, finally noting that this was Ed's first time. "Here, I'd best give you a shot glass." He held a chuckle, turning, but stopped mid-way to witness the craziest thing he'd ever seen in his bar. Well, not the craziest but the boldest.

Edward chugged the whole keg. The twenty four oz keg into his throat. He was nearing the end, his face was a flaming ball of red. His shoulders where tensely slouched. If only he had an audience.

He finished, forcing the remains that puffed his cheeks down his throat, his face twisted in pain and displeasure.

Ed swallowed it down, none left behind.

Victory swarmed within his agonized posture. He wanted to smile, but the burning in his stomach kept his mouth in a tight purse.

His body heated inside, his outer skin feeling like ice. His body began to take control of Edward's action's without permission. Slowly his body fell back, but the bar tender had grabbed him by the collar in time to yank him onto the counter, where Ed rested his head, his hands limply to his sides.

Then, he smiled. He smiled, and he laughed. "Daaaaamn." Was Ed's comment in this new to him situation.

"Damn is right." Huffed the bar tender, still stoic. "That was absolutely amazing! And.. from what I can tell, your absolutely drunk." He chuckled, then shrugged shaking his head as if this were a rather troublesome event. "Not somethin that is avoidable. 'Specially to the new guyz."

"Hey!" Edward shouted, having difficulty moving his flesh arm to his face. He stuck out his index finger and placed it over is small O shaped mouth. "S... SHHHHHH!" He demanded, face angry.

The bar tender did, but not because Ed ordered him. Mostly because you can't mess with the drunks. They don't listen.

He turned from Ed, and began to clean some chores he ignored earlier that day. Something he should also tend to, since closing time was not more than twenty five minutes away.

Quite humorously, the bar tender jumped at the sudden noise of glass dropping to the wooden floor.

Quickly he turned, almost flying over the counter. He sighed in relief. "Lucky you didn't break dat. Or ma boss wulda had ma head!" He huffed.

"Yeah yeah." Ed slurred, wafting the air with his less heavy flesh arm. He stumbled off the stool, not forgetting to leave the pounds and tip behind, and head for the open doors. "Seee ya... ol... Ol man." He mumbled, leaning against the wall for the support.

The bar tender stood still and watched. Edward stood at the door, staring at the open wooden oak with serious eyes. 'Probly noticed there ain't more wall ta lean on.'

Next thing he saw, Ed was on his knees, crawling on the floor to his leave.

The man would've said something along the lines that Ed should stay until he could even think straight, but went against it. He wanted to head home, and taking care of a teen wasn't on his list.  
He sighed and, walking through the flapping doors heading around the counter, attended to the tossed keg. Not a drop of Vodka left behind.

* * *

Ed laughed at himself. He still had a clear mentality, but his actions were far from what he wanted. His body just acted on it's own, despite the fact that he knew it was embarrassing and stupid.

He stood, leaning against the old, paint chipping wall, getting some of the puke green chips on his muddy white gloves.

As of now, his main priority was to get to his dorm before sun cracked, or four AM, the time he was meant to wake.

He didn't want Roy to come knocking on his door to wake up. Or to see him like this.

Like a heavy mountain of bricks, sorrow hit him. He felt sad now, drained. Like his mother had died all over in his hands.

He wanted to fall to his knees and cry. Cry of such foolish, random, emotions. But he couldn't. If he wanted to cry, be it in his room, not in the streets. But crying was for babies, for little kids who give up.

Ed no longer thought himself weak. And crying was along those lines.

Looking up with his shaking golden orbs, he saw his dorm, the sky giving off a dark purple. Late morning, in terms of after three AM, after those hours, they were considered late like afternoon, and mid afternoon.

He paced to the doors, only one, insecure thoughts running through his spinning head. Today, he was gonna stop his crying, his dreams, his weakness, his job, his bothers, his memories.

* * *

"O... K... Edward..." He spoked to himself, calling out his own name, hyperventilating as he held the automail arm over his flesh arm, looking at the skin wide eyed.

He wasn't as drunk as he was an hour ago, regaining some body control, and clearer thoughts. (spiritual trance).

With a quick glance, he stated the time in his head, then aloud. "It's near four AM. It takes more than thirty minutes to loose enough. Then an hour..." He calculated.

He irritably tskd. "Damn!" He didn't have that kind of time!

Since Al left, Roy had taken the task of waking the teen up, since, well, Edward began to have a knack of waking late. Way past four. More like way past ten AM.

It was a daily routine, save for Sunday.

He shook his head. Now. It had to be done now.

In his last four years of being in the army, he had watched gory autopsy's after another. During those autopsy's, though as gruesome and disgusting they sounded and more over seemed, Ed watched with observing eyes how the doctors tore the skin open to allow massive blood flow. By slicing it vertically() instead of horizontal(-).

He quickly clapped his hands, and ran his flesh hand over the metal of his right, transmuting it into a long, sharp knife.

Unlike most who loved the blade, Ed didn't gaze at it, or adore it's twinkle. He thought that doing so was retarded, dumb, and psycho. It was just plain stupid. Not saying what he was doing wasn't. He just saved the over dramatics of cutting for the dramatic twits.

Without hesitation, deciding this was it, he placed the tip of the metal on the end of his palm, near the wrist, stabbed, and flexibly, yanked the knife down his arm to the tip of his elbow.

He threw his head into the pillow he set on his lap, screaming the pain he felt into it.

The blood did flow quickly, quicker than he imagined possible. He held out his arm, wincing when the muscle cried in pain, and watched as the blood seeped through the deep long line and onto the floor.

Now it hit him. He was loosing too much blood! He was trying to kill himself? What?! No... no no no!

But... But as it sunk in, he didn't regret. In fact, this is how he wanted it. The short panic attack just overwhelmed his gut when he realized his life was edging near the cliffs fall.

Ten minutes had passed, and still his mind was at blank, watching the crimson seep through like the sand in a sand glass. He was beginning to feel it. Dizziness with a pinch of nausea.

His body commanded he lay. So he did.

Like a stone he fell to his bed, staring at the ceiling, his arm to his side, flooding the white sheets with a puddle of his blood.

His automail arm rested on his farm forehead, cooling it down. But he wasn't using it like an ice pack. It was more like a self slap to the face.

Roy wasn't going to come. He chuckled to himself, saving the insane laughing for his welcome to hell, which didn't exist. The Colonel bastard wasn't going to bang at the wood, shout his name, or open the door with his key. Because today was the lucky day. Ed's day off.

Today was Sunday.

No one was going to save him. No one was going to barge in and find a fresh corpse.  
Instead, that would take place tomorrow.

His eyes looked above him and out the window. There it was. The magnificent orange sky. It was around four ten am now.  
He sighed, taking a slow breath afterwards.

A sad smile lingered his lips. This was it. He was going to die a coward. Die in shame.  
He was going to die like a bucket of water with a small rusty, self created hole, leaking out its liquid.

Not the hero way at all.

'Oh, who cares?!' Ed thought. Right now wasn't the moment, or ever more, to think shamefully of himself. Instead, he should feel happy he was leaving all this behind.

This crappy world. Full of damnation.

He eyes closed on their own, his heart beating fast. He was scared, or his body did, but honestly, he felt calm.

The memories and dream streamed like a small river behind closed eyes, fading away.

Yes! What he wanted.

And he also found himself hallucinating. Like the noise of his door unlocking. And then the calm voice that soon started shouting, cursing in confusion and fear. Then his body rose like he was flying.

Maybe he was insane?

But he could've sworn, as he fell to his forever sleep, that the cracking voice that didn't cry tears, but yelled for him to stay, belonged to the Colonel bastard, Roy Mustang.

* * *

Author/Nihonjindesu: liked it? Hated it? Anyhowww. Um, the humor. I tried to tone it down. This is supposed to be a somewhat serious fiction... But then I thought (like just now), that would be so unlike Ed to be mopping around like some sad dog. That ain't Edward!

As for the fics POV (for the noobs, this means point of view), I'm thinking of separating? I mean the characters wouldn't be talking in first person, but it'd be their witness.Why? Well, because Ed's out cold, and probably dead, he can't talk (and sure as hell not as a frikin Angel, cause Ed isn't religious). So someone has to have their views. So why not Roy?  
And don't say it's up to me! Everyone knows that out there, there are those selfish readers who say "do what you think's right" then they blow off the story cause they thought their own way better! Don't lie to yourself's!  
I have A.D.D did you know that?

Anyhow. Please review! Please please please! Fucking pop-ups!


	2. Chapter 2 Run towards the sun

Summary:

Ed contemplates on his past, and come to a conclusion to end the nightmares. Full of self loathing, Edward wants to end his life. But someone won't allow it, is forcibly keeping him alive, stopping his attempts. That someone is Roy Mustang.

* * *

The memories and dream streamed like a small river behind closed eyes, fading away.

Yes! What he wanted.

And he also found himself hallucinating. Like the noise of his door unlocking. And then the calm voice that soon started shouting, cursing in confusion and fear. Then his body rose like he was flying.

Maybe he was insane?

But he could've sworn, as he fell to his forever sleep, that the cracking voice that didn't cry tears, but yelled for him to stay, belonged to the Colonel bastard, Roy Mustang.

* * *

Footsteps echoed. Filling the ear's heavily in an annoying rhythm. 

They were fast paced, but each landing held it's equal seconds.

A heavy sigh erupted ear drum's. The air felt warm, flowing cheeks like a river of heat.

Something close creaked, like a rocking chair. But only once.

"I d-... kn-.. he-.. -ne..."

_'What?...'_

"-ut..h-- -k... -ght?"

Gibberish whispered irritatingly, filling the air. He knew the mumbles were words, but his hardly wake could make nothing of them.

"Yes, he'll be fine... hopefully."

Roy sighed, looking away from the elder doctor, then pacing some more, running a hand through his messy, lightly blood coated hair.

But the sigh wasn't calm, it wasn't relieved. More likely, irritated.

"Marcoh, are you not one of the better Doctors around here?" Roy spat. "Please tell me I haven't chosen the wrong guy to do this sort of thing."

Marcoh chuckled to the compliment. "Yes, I do admit my reputation was high." His smile dropped. "But that was the past. That was when I had the stone to aid me through almost the most impossible of conditions." His stare became dangerous, almost as if he saw through Roy. And through Roy he saw the past.

Roy looked back, nodding after a long statue stand. He understood, and knew. There was no misinterpretation to this matter. The stone was kept with Marcoh when the man fled central and went into hiding. But when he was found once again, the stone was taken, more like, absorbed, into nothing more.

This stone, to Marcoh, was not momentarily needed in Ed's condition. The boy tried to commit suicide. He sliced his arm drunk. He bled a river. But he had no dire disease. He was dying from blood loss, not cancer, or a tumor.

Marcoh's eyes swayed, following the engraved patterns of the wood below with a frown. The same frown he held permanently for most of his fourth life. His first was when he was a clean man. Held no sin to his name. The second was when he was put into centrals militia of alchemists. The third was when he fled, and was known as the same man, but it held a different ring. Doctor Marcoh seemed clean. He was a good doctor, helping the poor, the less hopeful with the stone.

That fourth life being the time he was found once more, forced into a sort of imprisonment.

His tired eyes looked up to Roy, who clenched his teeth in almost distraught. And the Doctor understood. He, as a doctor of sorts, had many cases of the sort. Example being when he was in the war, and many of the central army men tried to commit suicide.

Marcoh, being almost soulless in those days, felt as if their commitment to end their was to the best. This hell they landed upon was in no way something one should suffer. Ending the life of many innocents that hid away in closets, corners, basements of a bar. Some would even stuff themselves into chimneys, some that were lit seconds ago then put out. They withstood the agonizing heat to hide in the brick hole, climbing, and pushing their skinny bodies against anything to keep them in the center.

They were found and killed.

The everyday life of that killed souls of the very men that fired their bullets away into the skulls of children. They felt that it was their right, but the upper military men, such as the fuhrer and his right hand man, had other ideas as to what was right. That was, to keep every single man alive.

Because with the stone, a dying man could stand on his feet within seconds. The old bullet to the head couldn't even be accomplished.

In Ed's case, it was light. The blood could be regained with enough iron in such foods. He was no dying man.

But as Marcoh watched Roy's midnight dark blue eyes glisten for even seconds, he could tell. He could tell that Roy cared deeply for this teen like his own child. And he was freaked. He could tell also that he thought the stone would be best fit.

"Roy, please drop the idea. I will never kill another soul to create another of those hellish stones."

The colonel turned on his heel, his eyes wide for only a second, then regaining. "I had no such idea... Doctor."

"Trust me." Marcoh breathed, holding a hand out like a stop sign. "I have dealt with this many times before Colonel. Fullmetal--" A groan interrupted him. It was Ed's own groan. He doubted the teen heard him, but that was still a good sign. He lightly smiled. "Fullmetal will be alright. Just.. give him some time." He advised, looking to the worried man.

Roy's head whipped over to Ed upon hearing the stir. He held back a smile of relief. "Yeah..." He said, sitting to a chair in the far corner of the rooms by the window. His restful eyes looked out to the fall environment. Winter was deathly near. And the pyro did not like the idea of snow.

"So.." Marcoh spoke, looking around as if searching for something. He cuffed his knees. "I'll be going now. Call me if anything happens." Though he doubted it. He stood with a grunt, his arthritis acting up.

Roy didn't reply. Just stared out the window in wait.

* * *

A scream tore from his throat as he woke. Quickly, his hands flew, covering his mouth. Again. Like always, another damned hellish dream. 

But how? And why?

Was this really a place for the afterlife? Does God exist, and if so, punish him for his long lead of sin? And was it truly dark? Hell that is. Or was he in Limbo?

The same noise from before drummed within his mind. The sound of footsteps. Were they of his own? Surely not, he sat still.

It was seconds later that he noticed he had his eyes tightly shut. Slowly, he opened it slowly. Hesitating for any bright light that might blind his irises.

With his mouth still caged within his palm, Edward fully opened them, noticing that he was in no heaven or hell, no limbo. He was in a room. A modern, cozy, middle class sized bedroom. Hell, the windows even had glass over them. A lit fireplace. Paintings, plants, a rug, king sized bed.

Was he in purgatory perhaps?

Did he become a spirit and land here of all places. A chosen home to haunt?

"Edward?" Came a quick voice, like a worried mother.

Ed's half opened eyes completely awoke. He dropped his hand, looking to his right.

Although the voice sounded like a mum in concern, it belonged to a male.

That male, "Colonel... Roy?", was the very man he believed he heard that night.

Roy held Ed by the shoulders in a soft grip, looking into the golden eyes of the drained boy.

He let out a breath while closing his eyes and dropping his head. He hid a smile, then looked back to the boy. "Yes. It is." He said with a strict tone.

The blond's brow arched, golden eyes darting around the room. Roy was, to Edward's knowledge, alive. So if he wasn't dead in any sense, then he was truly alive. He was breathing the air of this damned earth.

"And I want, no, you_will_ explain _this_," He lifted Edward's injured arm before both of them. ", to me." He said, eyes glaring.

Ed looked away from the man, to the bandaged flesh arm. This was no nightmare. He wasn't in a world of the dead where you live the hellish moments of your life over again, or the future of what might have become if you survived such an embarrassing attempt. This was the real deal.

He yanked the arm from the Colonel, glaring back. "No. No I won't." He hissed. Not looking away, he pulled the covers off his body, still clothed with the same clothing from that night, and scooted from the side where Roy stood. He head to the opposite side, almost able to sling his arms off, but was held back from doing so.

His eyes went wild in shock as he was thrown back onto the bed, confused. He looked to the source.

Roy held strongly onto Ed's automail arm, one leg perched on the bed as he leaned in. His free hand pushed against the mattress to keep his balance.

He gave not time to the boy, pulling his closer.

The boy lay limply, staring at the Colonel in the face. It took some time for the situation to register, and when it did, he acted.

Edward yanked at his hostage held arm, daring not to pull it out of it's mechanical socket. His legs began to kick in a pulling manner, trying to pry himself away. His injured arm numbingly grabbing onto Roy's wrist, pushing it off.

"Ed!" Roy threatened, yelling to make him stop. "Edward! Dammit!" Still nothing, and the boy was in no way seeming to give up soon. "Fullmetal, ENOUGH!!"

Nothing. The boy was restless. A wild fire that had no extinguisher.

The swaying Colonel brought up his hand, and slapped it across the blond's face.  
The impact echoed, and the room froze, both Ed and Roy completely still.

Ed looked to the other side, face warm, eyes wide. He turned to the Colonel, his teeth clenched.

Taking his grasp away, he pulled his injured arm away from Roy's wrist, and was set to punch the man in the face.  
Quickly his arm flew. And just as quickly it was held mid-air.

Roy looked at Ed with a distraught expression, almost as if to break into quite tears. Like the face he held after he shot Winry's parents, and held the gun to his chin.

He pulled the boys flesh arm towards him along with the automail. Letting go on time, he consumed the boy into a hug.

This is something he didn't expect from the Colonel bastard. Being held in an almost paternal like hug for his suicidal commitment.

"Colonel... B-?"

"-Please Edward..." Roy whispered, his voice tired, drained. "Please tell me. I know we don't get along, I know you don't want to say. But Fullmetal... I'm worried."  
The blond twitched, eyes still to the ceiling.

"I... I know what your going through. Maybe your reason's different. But I've tried more than once. Ed.. your not alone. So don't ever think that."

"Roy,"

The man pulled away, looking to Ed with a stern look, like he mostly did. "Now please Fullmetal.. Explain. Tell me why you did this?" He demanded, touching the bandages.

Ed sighed. "Roy," He repeated, re-starting from where he was interrupted. "... O.K, fine, you and I have something in common. But there's much more to what I've gone through. Your war sob story doesn't stick only to you. Havoc, Fury, Hawkeye. They all suffered it too. They killed many too. Women, Men, Children. But they live today. The cope." He paused, calculating Roy's expression. "My stories different." He declared, no strain in his tone.

The raven haired man took in a slow breath.

"So don't _ever_ compare us again." He hissed, pushing his way past Roy. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm leaving."

Roy turned. "To?" He asked.

Edward shrugged. He understood what Roy meant to ask. 'How, when you have no idea where in Central you are currently located?'.

"Somewhere." Ed answered, putting his brown coat on.

The colonel looked away, towards the outside nightly lands from the window. "I won't let you leave."

Ed turned. "What?"

"I won't let you leave unless you promise me something." Roy said in his usual bore, irritated voice.

Ed smirked. "Tsh, yeah? And what's that?"

"That you will stay alive. That you won't try this again." Roy demanded flatly.

The room fell silent, the wood creaking as the wind from outside lightly blew against it's logs.

Ed turned completely towards his exit. His arm hovered over the handle, turning once more to Roy. "Yeah, sure."

The knob turned, and the door opened. He waved shortly, and left the room without another word.

The reply concerned Roy. As he leaned again the wall, looking out the window with a bored expression, masking his deep concern, he contemplated.  
Should he follow the teen? Keep an eye on him?

Blond golden hair glistened under the moon. Slowly it faded from Roy's view over a hill not too far from the house.

"'Sure', hm?" Roy mumbled to himself.

He was no fool. Edward was surely going to try once more. And Roy doubted the boy was going to go back to any central hotel, room, or place for that matter.

He would board a train that led perhaps to no where. Not even to Ed's knowledge, a place he never had been to in his young life. And there he would hide. Both himself, and his death.

Roy walked to the half empty whiskey bottle that aided in cleaning Ed's cut and chugged it down.

"Edward... I won't let you kill yourself..." He said to no one.

* * *

The blond looked behind him, noticing the house was no where in sight. 

His eyes closed half way, brows arched in discontent. He bit his lip, and slumped his shoulders.

And silently, he apologized. He was not in any shape or form, way or thought, going to keep his promise. But, he smiled, at least he saw Roy one last time, right?

He shrugged, turned, and head his way to his destination.

"I'm so sorry, Colonel Bastard.. heh... Roy.."

* * *

Author- Ugh, wtf?! Fucking hate it! What ever. This was all I could come up with at the moment since I'm more pissed than angst. Anyway, should I yaoi this? I kept the more passionate mushy yaoi love scenes at the side cause I wanted a vote. In other words, Roy and Ed didn't kiss and get any romance on because of the anti-yaoi peeps. 

Please Review. And I apologize for any long waits. I have finals tomorrow and Friday. Then my x-mas break will most likely be full of events, and I hope for a good winter break this year! AhHH!!


	3. Chapter 3 Leave me to my freedom

Author- Well, here, chapter three :3. I'm sorry for the long wait. Anyhow, how are you all? Enjoy the Holidays? Enjoying Christmas break?

Mine was O.K to say the least, but like always, not very enjoyable. I did however get drunk, not something to brag about, but thats one reason I couldn't update. So for those wondering about chapter ones drinking scene, well, let's say I know from experience. I hope you take note, however, with my literature level, that I am not a young alcoholic.  
It was rather lame though. Since two shots due me in. So it was around a cup of wine. I wasn't extremely drunk however, since wine doesn't have that power.

Also, anyone have DEV or Gaia? Wanna add me? (please say you do TT).  
My DEV is http/meshniainoyaoi. (for the dev, just type in www.mes---after yaoi put dot com (in the html form). to the fact that i have no scanner, I can't upload my art. But when I do, there I am.  
And my Gaia is under user name Merushi-Misa. You'll know it's me when you check out my profile and there i am with my Mokona hat (real person pic).[AH! So many re squiggly lines![referring to the spell check feature

Ok, enough of my rambling, story time...

* * *

::Previously:: 

_The blond looked behind him, noticing the house was no where in sight._

_His eyes closed half way, brows arched in discontent. He bit his lip, and slumped his shoulders._

_And silently, he apologized. He was not in any shape or form, way or thought, going to keep his promise. But, he smiled, at least he saw Roy one last time, right?_

_He shrugged, turned, and head his way to his destination._

_"I'm so sorry, Colonel Bastard.. heh... Roy.."_

* * *

He did not expect himself to get so easily lost from his starting point to the station, not that he did. He only hoped the Colonel expected the same. 

It was him who traveled most of the land just to pick out information for the greedy Colonel when the man picked no one else to the task. But then again, it was Edward who asked for such a thing. To look for the stone, with the help of the state.

He closed his eyes smirking, quietly chuckling. Help from the state, eh?

How he wished he's never began anything he committed. He wished that he never got into the military. That he never got his brother involved. That he never damaged the many people he had throughout his mission. That he never opened the gate. That he never tried reviving his mother.

Edward looked to the mesh painted sky, the orange entangled in between the dark violet and yellow, sprouts of pink laced around the fallen sun with tints of ruby at their fading ends.

And perhaps, he wished, that he'd never been born to begin with.

His hand slowly reached his face, cupping it in anguish. Every time he thought that, he would remember all those hellish memories that he couldn't help but think were revolving around him.

Every time he thought about another mess that had to be largely fixed, it was linked to him.  
But as he walked, his pace slowing, he pushed those feelings and thoughts away.

There was no time for him to think like this.  
The sun was coming, and he had to get there before any reinforcements that got ear from the Colonel came in search for him.

In other words, the darker the scenery, the better.

With expected time, he spotted the Central Grand Train Station. Or more like the back of it.

The building was pretty large, with it's fixed glass roof that seemed to reach the sky mid-way. The bronze aligned always polished. The building was an example of great architecture. But other than observing it's art, there was something else tugging at Ed's insides that made him excited.

The bigger the building, the more people inside.

All he had to do was cross the many abandoned railroads that lay on the almost dessert landscape behind the building, and run in through the front.

Quickening his pace, Ed rushed towards the station, soon jogging, then full out storming.

Was there a particular location where he would disappear? He was aware that he knew of more locations than the Colonel Bastard in this fucked up world. But was there a place where he'd like to see last, or at least as he slipped away?

At first, he thought his old home was fit, but then went against it. Did he really want to finish it all with his last glances towards his home that was rebuilt after their dads visit? To see that in there would be Alphonse hoping for the day that he would see his older brother once more?

His hand gripped the building corner, not paying attention to how long and wide the walls that closed up the building were. A long way yet.

He could see it, and he dare not want to, but it couldn't be helped.  
Hastily he made his way to the front of the building.

Edward could see through open aware eyes that scanned the premises the image of his brother smiling in the house. And like the current day cinema flick, a movie played in his head.

He saw Winry and Alphonse at dinner. Winry eating away like she always did, and Al hardly, still getting used to eating full meals since he was no longer an armor.  
Ed suspected it was because although at first Al didn't have any memory of it at first, he was able to. But when he was brought back through dreams as to when he was in an armor, he regained those feelings emotions and memories he held as a hollow item.

They laughed and talked as the four cats that Alphonse had mentioned walked around and jumped onto the table. He couldn't hear their voices, but since this was his imagination, he knew what they spoke of.

_His_ return.

He wasn't being self conceited, imagining that they spoke of him so grandly. He remembered what they would tell him with every phone conversation and added it to a jumble heap of dinner talk.

The loud blow of smoke from one of the distance trains inside pulled him back into reality.

He blinked away the dryness of his eyes that he believed he obtained from starring off into surreality.

Although the trains whistles could be heard at least behind the abandoned tracks, the intercom and men whistles could not. So when he heard an announcer announcing the leave of a train, or a man blowing his whistle to caution the people, he knew he was close. But the closing distance was noticeable in itself as the long wall neared it's end towards a corner.

Was he being selfish? Only thinking of himself? Could he blame himself? No really, could he? Was it his fault he led a miserable life and if so was it his fault that he wanted to end the memories of it so badly? Was that being selfish?

Shaking his head he pressed his teeth and glared to nothing but himself. That was no way to think right now. He was fit to do this and there was no turning back.

And if he didn't, he knew the results, the aftermath.

First, the military would know, or rather, already knew. Then they would take him to the Colonel. He would lecture Ed for hours. Then either keep watch of him and his every moves or send him to a loony bin. Then when Alphonse would come to visit him, he'd come to only find out that Edward, the brother he looked greatly upon, had gone insane, and couldn't live off on his own anymore.

But if he took the alternative and killed himself, then that would be the end of his troublesome story, and no more continuation.

It'd be settled forever.

No action from him, or the Colonel, or no one.

His glare dropped, and from it, came a smile that was slowly turning into a smirk.  
He reached the end of the wall, coming to a stop. He leaned to it sideways, his left arm touching the wall. Leaning his head forward, he peeked around towards the large front area.

Decorated with trees, circular patterned brick grounds, bushes, bronze benches, a large fountain with miniature angel of a naked toddler boy at the tip, pointing to the skies, was presented like many times before. And better, a large amount of people walking in and out through the large, but not wide, arched silver frames that led indoors. A door less entry to the building.

But before he snuck into the the entering crowd section, he had to make sure that no one was watching, or rather, no one from the military.

And to his surprise, there was none. No Hawkeye, Fury, Havok, none of the expected party.  
But this didn't clear his mind. What if they were inside waiting for him? With a straight jacket and men in white coats?

He couldn't risk it. But this was his only escape. For one, walking out of one Centrals bounds would require him to state his name, occupation, and headed location. Not only that, but he would have to speak to a man working in Centrals militia.

If he boarded the plane, he would have to reveal his face to a certain individual with photographic memory and great art skills who would draw him and post the sketch into records with a date of leaving in case some havok would occur involving him or that he created.

Locations would not be stated at the desk. Instead, he would state the time his boarding listed outside on the location list. He would just take a ticket according to time, and from there, he would head to the train.

His escape was that clean and simple.

And if by some chance the military was to locate him for an illegal stray escaped military man, he'd be long dead, with his blood drained from his body from any location he would slice at the moment.

He grabbed at the end of his long brown coat. With a bit of difficulty, he clapped his hands together, taking about six inches off the end. And the result was a transmuted average paper boy hat.

He snugged it on, making sure to put in as much of his blond hair to hide it's famous amongst other men length. He then detached his pocket watch to silence it's jingling and slid it deep into his pants pocket.

Closing his coat, he paced to the door frames, pushing through the crowd, trying to get into the entry way without much haste to vanquish any suspicion.

After getting through the sea of staring men and blushing women, he got to the desk, where an elderly women with a ridiculously wrinkled face demanded his time of departure.

"Um," He stuttered, trying to hold back his nervous shake. "Shit..." He whispered, the women oddly staring up at him, her face turning into a mushy glare. His pocket watch was in his pocket, damn the teasing name of it.**[1**

He looked around, noticing the sun was reaching the skies. There was no time.

"What's the time..." He said, his wide gaze towards the door frames. No answer. Not likening this response Ed looked down to her, returning the glare. "What the bloody hell is the time?!"

She flinched. "A bit over four and a half till." She quickly responded.

"O.k." Ed muttered. He would later think of himself a bit foolish for his actions. He could've easily and simply asked for a ticket boarding their passengers now, at the current time. "I'll have the four and a twenty till." He said rather politely.

With a sigh, and pursed lips, she looked down to the roll of tickets at the border of her dark oak desk, and ripped one off the roll under the demanded time.

"I'd advise you to take care of that childish attitude sir. And also," She gave him the ticket. "I also advise you board the At Five train."

"What?" He asked confused, taking the ugly peach ticket. "I thought that trains left every ten minutes..."

"Yes, well, unfortunately, not today. They leave every twenty now. The boss gave me the order to tell the people. Now, that'll be ten pounds."

He nodded with a bewildered look, and gave her the money. "Thanks." He mumbled, ignoring the line of impatient people behind him, and took his leave.

How unusual. A perfect day. No bad predicted weather to be noted in the clouds, no fire, no destruction of Central city, or current homicidal maniacs that he would know of because of his job. Then what?

After presenting his face to one of the hundreds non busy face sketchers, he paced towards the entitled At Five distance train with the headed locations name beside it in large white letters placed over a large black border line.

But before he set foot into the ten feet distance radius, he checked the premises, hiding his face behind the popped collar of his coat.

Still, he spotted no familiar faces, no blue uniforms, no central military crafted guns.

It was clean.

Surely, the Colonel wouldn't go the extent of a search party for a suicidal craving teen. But if he were to say, 'search for a military runaway', then surely, he would be searched.

Quickly he got to the employee male standing at one of the long distance train doors, presented his ticket, and with approval took the steps.

A breath he held escaped his burning chest. He fixed his coat collar still in the door way, looking for his seat. Turning, he was thrown to the cold concrete.

Unfortunately, not in the train, but outside it, laying before the doorway. He looked to the employee astonished. Did he trip over his own clumsy feet or did that man pull him off so that he'd allow others to get in?

Ed however took note that only one passenger boarded while others around bid farewells to their family, or took the time to comfortably nap outside on the benches.

So did this man?...

The man looked to him with the same look, astonished, and a blush of embarrassment across his handsome face.

"I-I didn't!" He stuttered, waving his hands defenselessly.

Edward believed him. Not because he looked frightened, or because his answer was nearly shouted in defense. But because when he got up, dusting his coat, and gripped the bar on the train walls to get on, he was grabbed once more, and not yanked.

A girl giggled, and Ed blushed. Were they, the owner of the little giggle of a voice, the culprit? Maybe that's why the employee was blushing, and stuttered to hide his laugh.

The blond teen smirked with a fumed expression turning to the employee who flinched in return. Then pushing back his expression, he smiled heartedly, kindly looking to the girl.

"I'm sorry, but," He started with a sweet voice. To continue, he was going to finish with,

"You have to go?" They had to finish because Edward seemed to go mute as he stood before the person behind him on the station ground, looking up to him with that signature smirk.

"Havok?" He breathed, not daring to continue.

"Hey Ed." Havok smiled, waving his hand slowly. But his smile wasn't returning the one Ed had turned with. Instead, it was rather a smirk of victory. "Don't forget to say hi to him. He might get mad that no one notices him." Havok directed with his thumb.

But Ed didn't have to look, he knew that the shorter companion who stood next to Havok was none other than "Hello, Brigadier General Mustang..."

He greeted, holding the name in formal respect not because he wanted to, but because it was an inner bitter taste of loss.

"Thanks for that, Havok." Roy said, smiling angrily towards him. The raven haired man then payed his attention to the blond who hung out of the train door, leaning towards the men with wide eyes. "Hello, Fullmetal Alchemist." He smiled, or rather, gave the same look Havok did.

"Start the car Havok," Roy ordered. "I'll meet you there."

Havok saluted "Sir." And with that he turned on his heel, pulling out a cigarette as he walked away.

It almost seemed like Havok was the mild party in the deathly damp air. For when he left, so did any comfortable social atmosphere he had given.

"Off the train." Roy ordered. "Your coming with me."

Edward dropped his shocked expression, slowly turning it into a glare. "No... I'm not." He countered.

But Roy didn't flinch upon the denied given answer, not that he was looking for one. However, he already suspected as much.

"Then at least get of the train." He ordered, more like a given advice as he tilted his head presenting the small amount of people waiting to board.

Without much choice, Edward got off, waving an apology to the others who glared back.

"What do you want.." Ed muttered, stating more than asking.

Roy sighed, crossing his arms. "You are a piece of work Fullmetal. I honestly didn't believe you would do something so pitiful and drastic."

"Enough with the teasing and tell me what the hell you want." Ed hissed, not raising his voice from a whisper.

Silence fell before them, both of them removing the surrounding nose from their ears, only concentrating on each others.

"Do you really want me to express such a response in public, Edward?" Roy answered, a frown tugging at his lips, his expression softening.

Ed flinched. He used his first name, and in public. He was never too shocked to hear his name dripped from the mans lips. But never was it mentioned before with other people around unless it was Risa.

"No." Ed answered, his tone heading towards defeat. "But..." He started, turning towards the train. "... If you don't have anything to say, then I'm get."

His feet touched the stairs once more.

Edward knew the Colonel too well. Roy would never start a scene in public, no matter what the situation, he always kept his calm and serious expression.

But today seemed to be like no other. And one Edward would have never expected.

There was a clack, and then a click. Iron bit into his flesh wrist.

"State Alchemist, Fullmetal." Roy's voice stated, and Ed shivered from how close it felt.

The blond teen looked back and down towards Roy, who stood upon the first step of the distance train.

"You are here by arrested under the suspicion of illegal militia escape."

* * *

Author- Eh, i was going to update for Christmas, but I had writers block, and I got lazy. Thus as to why this chapter was no good. 

Now I'm also pissed because I asked for the sims2. I went to best buy with my mum to choose the game, rather point it to her, and accidentally presented the wrong one.

I got the sims2 for the mac DX! I have a PC.

So, now I'm selling it. All I've done was open the box and CD, but it's unused. So if anyone on here is interest in buying this 50$+ game for 30$, then tell me please DX!!

[1"His pocket watch was in his pocket, damn the teasing name of it.": Edward thought the pocket watch was teasing him since it's name is pocket, where the watch was hidden during that moment, and watch, what he needed for the time to buy a ticket.

**Also, anyone watch HP? You know the station in the first movie when Harry boards his first time? Thats strikingly similar to how Centrals Station looks, and not oddly enough since Ed's world is a mirror world of England. So if you were wondering about how it looked, there you have it.  
Also heres a link to a pic to give you an idea-  
http://s131.  
photobucket  
.com  
/albums/  
p303/  
shinobesx/?  
actionview¤t;  
trainstation.jpg**

**put this together.  
**


	4. Chapter 5 The ticking clock

Author- When I started this story, I was probably around 16. Now I'm 18, and there was this certain review that upset me. English is not my first language, it's around my 3rd. So when I write, I try my best. I've been a beta for other fictional stories, and have received heart warming praises. But when someone corrects my wording, it brings me down, as an author, and stops any will to continue my work.

I know it's childish, but it's the truth.

So if you review, and you have nothing kind to say, advice on the way I word things/spelling, then please, do not submit a review. This is my work, and it is my duty to please the readers. So if you're willing to fuck up my inspiration, please, would you kindly shut the fuck up.

As for the nice reviews that pushed me further into continuing this, I'm sorry for the long wait, I realize it's been a year and a couple of months, but that's because as soon as I submitted the authors note, I entered manic depression, and had to be medically looked over just in case, because of an incident that left me, well, depressed.

I've been back for a long while though, so I have no excuse other then recovery. I still feel a bit empty headed, as if high off meds, but I promise I'll work my hardest to get this chapter up and ready.

Thank you for the amazing reviews, except for Emily's advice in chapter 1 D:! But thanks for the review in chapter 2, so I forgive you. -phew, glad to get that off my chest for now-.

* * *

"I can't believe this…" Edward grumbled under his breath, sitting in a brown leather arm chair, the edges detailed further with elegance, little golden studs lined down the sides with measured millimeters.

Roy Mustang, who walked a few inches behind the teen, kept forward, curving around the desk, and taking a seat into his tall office chair. "Neither can I." He said with a tone that would normally be accompanied with a smirk, but when Edward looked up, none was presented on his face. "Suicide attempt, escape, breaking laws. The usual for you Fullmetal, save for a few inserted extras." He finished blunty.

The blond huffed, his brows knotted as his glare depend. "I'm no longer your dog, do not address me by that **tag** anymore." He demanded, his tone deep, quiet, but clear.

Roy leaned forward, his elbows pressing against the desks surface, hands joined each other with laced fingers, his chin slowly landed on the back of his ungloved hands, brows raised. "Oh? And who are you, **Edward**, to give me orders? Civilian or Dog, people are to respect those who are higher ranked, and follow **their** orders."

"Or what?! Break some law that doesn't exist? So that you **assholes **get the credit and money for something **you **did wrong? For your own amusement, **Colonel Bastard**?!" Edward snapped, his small body leaned forward, attempting to close in on the raven haired man as much as he could, to further intensify his anger.

The Colonel shook his head. "I won't explain anything-"

"Of _course_ you won't," Edward scoffed. "Because there is nothing to explain. The fact is you all are lap dogs, kissing the Fuhrer's feet like his bitch, and ordering others around from sheer boredom."

Instead of reacting like his former self, the raven haired man just sighed, ignoring Ed's harsh insults just to get on with business, and further contain the boy for his own safety. "You were strictly ordered to stay in the line of my vision, for reasons that I could report and have you detained in an asylum. If you play with my courtesy to keep you out here, then you will face what you want under your foolish actions."

He sighed, staring at Ed, leaning back and against the back of the chair, crossing his arms, as he swayed in his seat, the chair spinning side to side slightly.  
"Oh! And you say you're no longer a member of the military?" Roy paused, looking straight towards Edward's narrowed eyes, the older returning the glare blue fake curious ones.  
The older, without looking towards what his hands reached for, opened a file cabinet, pulling out the one upfront, due to the fact that Edward was usually in trouble, the folder was constantly being looked over, stamp't, referraled. "Well, here it clearly states that you're still with us." He faked a huff of confusion, shut the manila folder, and looked up to Edward, arms folded on the desk. His tone changed as he began listing off; "You know, I can arrest you for so many things you've done, I can put you in an asylum if I wanted to-"

"But you won't." Edward interrupted with a low hiss.

Roy's brows raised, somewhat shocked about the demanding, in control action of this boy. Normally he wasn't pushed around… Well, by a little kid. "Oh yeah? And what makes you say that, Fullmetal?"

The blonde's hands gripped the cushion edge of the seat, eyes narrowed, but shaking. Roy wasn't sure if the boy was shaking entirely because he was angry, or because he was scared. Edward opened his mouth, seemed hesitant, but quickly began. His tone was anything but frightened and nervous. "Because You know as well as any State Alchemist, as well as any militia member, the higher ranks, all of Central, even Scar who lies dead, all of them know that you can _**never**_ kick my ass." Ed sat back, seeming relaxed, looking at the Colonel's blank face, knowing what he said either stirred anger in him, or hopefully, what Ed wished, brought reality, realization to the older man, that he would loose against the great Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist, Chief at 12.

Roy sat still, staring at the youth before him, not minding the teens cocky grin, or his body posture screaming utter victory, well, in his imagination. He didn't care, because aside from the teasing, the insults, the little fun they were having, this case was far more serious than Roy liked to admit. "Edward, this is **serious**."

Ed flinched again, there it was, his first name. It was like the first time today, probably the third, but just like the time this morning when Roy cuffed him, it sounded worried, exhausted. He wanted to say something in return. An agreement perhaps, because he knew he lost this little chase, knew that he had caused so much trouble for the Colonel, knew the risk that he put others in every time he stirred up in a town during a mission. And although the teen calls this man a Bastard, this very 'Bastard'was the man who defended, and picked him up to his feet every time his world- his mentality, decided to shake.

"You won't tell me, because you're embarrassed. You don't want to be honest, because you think that I'll spread you're angst story around headquarters. I know what it's like wanting to give up-"

"Ch-yeah," Ed laughed lightly. "Everyone feels that way sometimes, especially in this line of work."

Suddenly, Roy's way to convince Ed that it was alright to at least share, fell and shattered. The teen was right, Roy wasn't the only one who put a gun to his face. So why would that make the Colonel so special? Different? This youth was on it alone, and he was no coward about leaving. But still."Ed…" He started, unsure of what to say. "I realize that I'm not the only one in Central's militia that has attempted. But, still, I am amongst them. And I figured that…" He paused again, wondering if what he was to say would seem weird. "I figured that you would feel more comfortable telling me, rather then anyone else."

Roy was right, that was the answer that slowly crept into Ed's mind as he cleared the list of people he would tell one by one. He could never tell Riza, she would probably slap him a few times and ward him off like a worried mother. Winry would abuse him with her wrench until Pinako decided to stop her, to also give him a round with the wrench. Alphonse would…. No he wouldn't tell his brother. Too embarrassing, and the younger would probably blame himself. But something in his heart told him, that warmth, that with Roy, it was okay to tell. Then why couldn't he?

"Sorry Colonel." Ed mumbled, looking ashamed, but still holding that knotted cringe of confidence and anger. "But I don't want to." Followed with a light whisper. "At least not today."

As quiet as the last statement was, in this silent office room, it was loud enough for the older. "I understand." He looked down, seeming ashamed, but was in fact thinking. It didn't take long to find his way of solution. "But there's one condition you must follow."

Edward looked up to him, trying to hide the shock in his expression, but unable to. He knew Roy's conditions weren't always… Free, as in, to do what he wanted.

"You must," Roy began. "And I mean it, you **must** stay in my sight, until I can assure that you won't do this again. Like before, but-"

"Are you kidding me?!" Edward snapped, nearly standing from his chair. "There's no way I'll-"

"**Follow** my condition," Roy interupted sternly. "Or face prison for all the trouble you've caused with us since day one, and the additional asylum feature."

Ed instantly calmed, sitting back down slowly. The Colonel was taking this way too far for the teens safety, too ridiculously far. This wasn't a damn soap opera.

His mind was running in different directions, various options, answers, ways to get escape.

"Then it's settled." Roy stood from his office chair with a push of his hands against the table.

The blond instantly looked up, eyes wide, confused, and angry. But Roy continued before the teen could contradict the solution.

"Today, I want you to stay in my office. Hawkeye will remain in the room until work is over. She doesn't know of the situation, but if I tell her you are detained for illegal reasons, she won't hesitate stopping you." Roy muttered, holding back a smirk as he made his way to the large office doors. Peeking his head out into the hallway, he spotted Riza at her own desk not too far from the Colonel's, probably doing the mans paperwork. This additional request would probably cost him some ribs, but the gravity of the situation was anything but light.

Edward sat still, patient, contemplating on a way out. He could always jump out of Roy's window and run for it, if he didn't break his leg; but the window faced the courtyard directly. Making a run for it would only cause a huge stir up, no doubt Roy would call out a criminal escape through the intercom.

His golden eyes fell to the mans table, looking to the letter opener, very sharp. Or just simply the pen he could stab into his heart. But he didn't want to cause a scene in front of everyone in headquarters, because then everyone would know the great Fullmetal was done in by his own hand like an insane emo.

If the boy's fate followed his plan, and allowed himself to die in that crappy hotel room, then it would be kept secret. Because there would only be one witness, and one reporter when it was a suicide. Detectives around here always kept a militia members suicide a secret, even if the dead was a State Alchemist, to keep the persons honor.

However, if he decided to end himself in front of other militia members who have nothing better to do then to gossip, then there's no way that this would be kept under wraps, no honor, just _'Edward Elric, the boy who cut himself open and then shanked himself with a pen'_.

Before he could think straight, he heard what sounded like whining, a crying protest, but at the same time in pain.

He bet it was Riza beating the man up for making her do something for him, again.

The door swung open, the evidence that it was by a kick, was all over the women's stance. She held her Colonel in an arm lock around his throat, dragging him into his office like a rag doll placed in the arms of a little girl.

The imagination of Riza as a 5 year old with curly blond shoulder length hair, a pink Victorian child's dress, with pearly white buckled shoes and ankle high socks, clouded Ed's imagination, and had to hold back an uproar of laughs. Especially after he placed Roy as the doll, who in his head was an actual doll, only with a beat up and tortured expression. Why was he thinking such things?

"Edward," Riza said firmly, with her usual glare. "Do you really need me to look over you, as **_this_** man has requested?"

What? Roy didn't state it was a crime issue or some bull like that? "Uhm-"

"I understand you tried to illegally escape Central, but your case can easily be turned into one of an innocent soldier just continuing his mission." She advised.

But Ed wondered, what continuous mission? Al was flesh again, that was his promise.  
He knew he would no longer have a human arm or leg when he saw Wrath, -the homunculus-, having fun with his.  
Unless he killed the boy, froze the leg, and had it surgically replaced, then he would win his limbs back. But then he would have to face his teachers very wrath, which would go haywire, because this time it would be a case of murdering her child.

The Fuhrer knew about Edwards proposal of entry, and knew that by now, all was done.

But the old guy was never one to go nuts over a soldiers journey on a train, especially if he was oblivious about the suicide attempt. But still, Ed couldn't really take his chances.

"I believe it's up to the Colonel, Lieutenant." Edward curtly said, knowing that the statement alone would leave him alone, and direct the situation towards Roy entirely.

Riza let go of the Colonel, glaring into his midnight blue eyes with crossed arms against her chest.

"Well, Hawkeye, we can't leave him out of sight. He might try to escape again."

"Doesn't all of headquarters know? He won't be able to leave headquarters if everyone knows."

Roy raised a brow, mimicking her body language as he pondered about her request. "That does sound like a good idea."

Edward did not enjoy the fact they pretended he wasn't there.

"But," Roy began. "Fullmetal is too nuts, he'd probably kill all in his way. I'd prefer that only we know, and Havoc."

The room went silent as the blond women continued to glare, trying to figure something out. She sighed in utter defeat. "Then it is settled. I'll stay here and watch Edward. You go and talk to who you have to talk to, and finish the stack of paperwork I left on my desk when you're done."

He sighed, irritated, and turned towards the door.

As Roy passed the teen who remained in his chair, Edward could have sworn he heard the older man mumble- "Why didn't I just pull the fucking trigger"- under his breath.

Riza didn't seem to notice as she head to the Colonel's desk and took a seat, filling out her paper work.

Something about what Roy said stirred fear in Edward's chest.

The fear of loss.

He hated the Colonel, but something about loosing him made him choke up.  
Cold chills mixed with heat flooded from his feet, up his body, making his head swim.  
The thought alone was frightening.

Even though Roy was probably joking because of his stressful work, Edward did not like that statement.

---------------

"-And that's your room down the hall." Roy pointed, standing at the foot of his bedroom door.

Edward stared at the pointed door, already knowing the reason why the man gave him the room down the hall and far from the stairway. He wasn't going to make escaping easy.  
Slowly, he made his way over, gawking as soon as he looked in.  
Although the guest room as absolutely amazing, the window is what caught him by surprise.  
"Hey, Colonel," He pointed towards the window. "Do you usually bar the windows of your guest room in the many houses you own?"

Roy stood behind him, his expression tired. "Actually, while Hawkeye was looking over you, I called in some people to bar up the second story guest window." He shrugged, a non too enthusiastic smile spread across his face, due to the only desire of seeking a bed and sleeping in it. "I give them credibility for being prompt."

Edward growled, stomping into his room. "Thanks for the cell, **Asshole**." He snapped, slamming the door in the mans face.

"Oh, and Edward?" Roy called from the other side of the door. "There's no lock."  
He smirked, knowing all to well that the teen froze up.  
"So-" He opened the door and poked his head in. "Don't try anything remotely stupid." He smiled sweetly, but obviously due to this little situation that seemed very comical to him. "I'll be in my room." He said while slowly pulling his head out, sparing Ed the look of his frightened, mixed with a surprised expression as soon as he saw Fullmetal bring up his foot. Luckily, Roy pulled his head out before the door was kicked, slammed shut.

What Roy didn't remember, or what didn't cross his mind, was that Ed was a top State Alchemist. But as soon as he did, -as he settled into his bed, eyes wide with failure-, he decided that he would just hear the boy transmuting something, and that he would even blow the door down with his alchemy if he had to.

Unfortunately, Roy did not sleep lightly, a rare thing for him, and was not able to even catch the smallest static and hum as the door knob materialized a special lock, or some fine piece of _'what the hell is that'_ work by Edward, because the blond didn't want the Colonel to figure that mess out.

But as soon as the groggy Colonel went to the teens door to wake him for another day of work, knocked on the door but received no response, and grabbed the knob, he knew as soon as he saw the complicated lock nearly binding outside the door in twists and loops, that there was something completely wrong, and bad with the situation.

"Shit!" He hissed, running to his room, pulling the nightstand drawer open, seeking for his gloves. The only thought he had in his mind was that Edward locked himself in his room and did something. He slipped the found gloves on immediately, hoping that the blond was okay, and if he did anything, that it wasn't too long ago to be saved.

He snapped his finger as he stood at the door, concentrating the amount of spark he let out, melting the lock slowly under concentrated heat. He didn't want to set his house on fire.

As soon as the lock, along with the knob melted, at a quick pace thankfully, the Colonel kicked the door open since he was no good at shouldering it down. What he saw surprised him.

Roy didn't hear the loud bang and bend of the black bars metal fusing into a long pole that Edward stabbed into the soil in the first story while the older slept.  
He didn't hear the clatter or the curses when the teen nearly tripped backwards from the window sill trying to get a grip on the pole in order to slide down onto ground, and further make his escape… Roy didn't know, that while he slept, and when he woke, that Edward was no longer in his room.

Roy's eyes narrowed, glaring at the long black pole that stuck into the soil of the first floor. "Shit!" He hissed again, running to his room to put on his uniform, deciding to fix it on his way out, he would take care of further hygiene as soon as he got to the office, where he would call a search party for the young alchemist.

But for some reason, while he ran to headquarters, he felt in his heart that even if they found Edward, it would be too late. All he could do now was hope.

And while Roy hoped, and ran, Edward sat in an alleyway, a transmuted born gun to his face.  
The teen decided he would make it look like a crime scene, hoping that no one would be blamed for his actions, only suspects that would never be arrested.

While Roy's legs ached in protest, from the intense tight muscles that were starting to squeeze in incredible pain, Edward sat down, placed the gun to his forehead, and pulled the trigger.

--------------

**Author- Obviously, It's not done XD! So, has my writing changed? If it has, I'm sorry, lol, but I am 18 and growing XD!… I'm still 5'½" though, basically the height when I began writing this. I don't know why I don't grow, lack of vitamins and protein maybe.. Maybe that's why I'm anemic and lazy, as to why it took me too long to update. Well, all I could say is fuck iron, and fuck puss filled milk… Yeah, that's right, milk is full of cow puss. And if you live in America, it's 25% more than in other countries. How do you like your puss covered cereal?! XD! -evil-.**

**Anyhow, if I get reviews, I write another chapter. I finished this short chapter in a day, so if I get reviews, then I'll finish another one in a day.**

**An oooooh! Ed fucking shot himself D:! This kid is desperate! (the reason I say he did it rather then I made him, is because when I write chapters, it's a movie playing in my head, and I write out their actions, so I don't make them, the movie in my head does XD!)**

**I hate this smiley= XD**

**I really do D:!**

Anyways**, PLEASE REVIEW.**

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	5. Chapter 6 The body bag

**Author-** HAHA! I took SO LONG! I wanna see the last time I updated... WOW! Last month of last year, 6-05-09 XD. Sorry about that! I hope you guys still remember this story. If not, please re-read, since I had to as well XD!

Anyways, it's summer break, I'm off into the world of college, and I'm still going to conventions and what not. Because my wish was fulfilled (Honestly, I basically WISHED for the anime to come back, about 2 days before the animators announced they were going to continue the anime series XD, without anyone knowing it! :3), and brotherhood came to save our FMA hearts (I was wishing for it, cause I missed FMA :/, even the bad cosplays :/ ) I decided to go on with the story, since, well, hopefully it'll pull more people in DX. ANYWAYS-

Please read, please enjoy, please review, please share, and please add me on Gaia :3 -Merushi-Misa is my username.

Also, play some xbox live with me girls? haha XD.

AND, please check out my Death Note angst fiction, Distress and Coma :) PLEAAAASE! I know you'll LOVE it if you like this story.

LET THE ANGST BEGIN!

* * *

Roy Mustang could feel his stomach reeling, a nervous mess, as he stared into the alley way.

Cops covered the area, holding the curious sight crowd back, as uniformed soldiers with medic badges rushed in, arms occupied by medical equipment, meant solely for the young blond, Fullmetal.

Hawkeye got there in time too, holding the frantic man back, as he yelled Edwards name, seeking for a response. And as none came, he got worse, and became more still, as guilt wracked along his mental perception of the situation.

It was a punch in the gut, along with realizing that not only could he not keep Edward safe, but that, after hearing the bullets location, the boy might be dead.

Then cam the stretcher, and it took every muscle in Riza's body to hold Roy back.

A body lay atop it, shrouded in the darkness of a black body bag.

That's all it took to quiet Roy, and to send him to his knees.

* * *

Roy awaited at his desk the following day, phone placed before him, contacts in his hand. He would call the family, Pinako, Winry, and anyone the boy knew, and he would tell them the depressing news.

But Riza told him to wait, first receive the news from the surgical team, to ensure him, before he spread false news to everyone.

But why wait? There was a bullet, that was fired to his head. Those are fatal, and only a rare few live from it.

His hand pulsated against the golden handle of the phone, as he nudged at himself, trying to keep himself from picking it up, but just as he nearly attempted, there was a light knock at the door, along with the unaccepted self invite of Hawkeye, who only slid through the crack, paused to stare at him, and his hand, then continued to let herself in.

The first thought that ran through his head was bad news, from the look on her face, he could tell something wasn't right.

Silently without a missing beat she walked towards the office chairs placed before his desk, and, with a deep breathe, she sat, and hunched over her knees in a rather sloppy position. "Sir," She nodded, excusing herself for her impatience, and presentation, to tell him whatever it was, and for eagerly holding him back from whatever the news was. "It's about Fullme-… Edward, Sir…" She slowly hesitated, but found it was only right due to the situation at hand. "He's…" Her eyes wavered, and darted towards one side, as her mouth hung open slightly, her knees rocking from side to side along with the arms that were set upon them.

Roy's hand gripped the metallic handle further, as his dark eyes narrowed, and his teeth grit, a loud swallow passing down his dry throat. "Well?" He impatiently asked with pressed teeth, his body as still as stone.

Her eyes immediately darted towards his as soon as she took note to his aggression, and sat up, nodding lightly. "He's fine," She clarified, but not with the hopeful tone Roy was looking for. "He's fine, but," She paused again. "He's in critical condition… The doctors said he's comatose… However, there is a chance that, well, he might wake up, Sir… But…" And she drifted off, without another word.

He patiently waited for a good few minutes, until nothing came, and he had to eventually force it out of her.

"Well?" Roy demanded, brows knotting as he began to glare towards the nervous blond.

"But, there's also the good chance he might not. And if he doesn't, well, Marcoh said even we don't have the equipment to keep him alive… He might die off faster then thought possible, due to the wound in his head… Sir."

The man's head slowly fell, and he silently stared at his desk while she spoke, waiting for his comprehension to rip him from his sudden haze, and with still eyes, he nodded, slowly.

That wound he, Edward, sustained, self caused, was in fact, futile. The young boy shouldn't even be alive right now, that was luck alone that ripped him from the grips of death.

"We're looking for the person responsible… HQ suspects it was someone who is either anti-state alchemist or a member of the militia too hooked with honor to allow Edward an escape. From the looks of it, though, it seemed as if there was a pretty difficult struggle, which leads us to believe the killer is dangerous, Sir."

Roy opened his mouth, he was about to correct her, but he quickly remembered, he was the only one who knew of the true situation, and quickly he shut it, breathing out heavily through his nose. His hand slowly unlatched its tight grip, and began to slip onto the desk.

Hawkeye stared wearily, observing the long list Roy had prepared. "Sir," She began again, looking away from the desk and towards his face, that faced towards the side, eyes blank. "Maybe… We should call… Alphonse Elric..?" But no immediate answer came.

Instead, Roy's eyes turned towards her before his head did, and he looked down towards the list, eyes immediately catching the name, it was the first after all. "… I don't think that's a good idea…" He nearly whispered, looking away again, instead leaning back into his chair, head towards the ceiling.

"But Sir," Riza pressed. "If Edward doesn't make it-"

"Don't say that…" He interrupted, head dropping down along with his body as he sat upright. "Instead of looking into the worst of situations, be hopeful- Edward's gonna need all the hopes that we've got to keep him alive. Trust me-" He paused, turning his chair towards the window that sat behind him. Even the clouds were crying. "We don't want to tell Alphonse."

But Riza couldn't give up on her request. "But Sir! If you're concerned about him spreading the news-""Even I know Alphonse wouldn't do that. He'd do anything possible to come alone, to keep Edward alive, rather then tell anyone that he knows, about the situation." He interrupted, back facing Riza. "I want you to look up the best doctors around this country, if not, world. We need to find a solution, and requesting visits to watch Edward die is not an option…" He ordered.

However, Riza sat still, body slumped, brows arched in worry and frustration as she stared at the colonel. She was going to protest, but he was right, wasting time was not an option, especially with a figure as important as Edward, no matter how irrational he was behaving. "Yes, Sir…" She sighed, standing and walking away quickly, fists clenched.

Roy sat still, not even thanking her before the door opened, and then slammed shut. He did however hunch over in his seat, elbows pressed against his thighs, as his forearms drooped towards the floor, and his hands became limp. His head faced the ground, as his eyes were clenched tight.

Was there really no option? Could Roy really not protect the boy? This was becoming all too much, and the stress was building up rather too quickly. At this rate, Roy too would become insane, and then , his aid and protection would be fruitless for the boys own well being.

"Damnit," He whispered, bringing his hands to his face, teeth clenched. "Damnit it all…" His voice wavered, as he fought tears that threatened to fall.

Slowly he slid his hands off, as he began to sit up, red eyes staring out his rather large window. The sky was a wonderful tint of pink, orange, maroon, defined by the suns darkening glow as it began to set. The beauty shook him.

This was the world, this large incredibly mellow road, yet beautiful, was all they had, all they lived for, and all they could lose. Such small things that could stir and captivate a man, could melt in their grasp, deciding upon their own fate; to see the blossom of the world, or to let it seep through their cringed fingers, and sink into the decaying soil that is fated to bind with their bones.

And Edward was blinded, determined to allow it all to drown behind his vision, while all he decided to observe was a scheme to aid his own death.

This was all painfully true, and Roy could do nothing to stop it. Or, perhaps he could, but the answer was too far from grasp, and he couldn't see it. He had to hurry, and quick. But for now, he had to calm himself, and visit Edward.

Quickly he stood, and walked around his desk, wearily looking at the coat that hung on the rack. He paced himself as he usually would towards the door, grabbing the coat without a pause, slid it onto place around his thinning body, closed and locked the door behind him, and sped towards the HQ nursing grounds, taking every cell in his body to restrain himself from bolting down the long hallways, and towards the boy.

* * *

He didn't need to introduce himself, instead he just walked in, the doctors and nurses only catching a glimpse as he walked past the ER care doors, and towards ICU.

The hallways were rather empty, and even though the stench of people who would usually run around and visit their family stunk up the place with their plenty over night stays, the many hallways still occupied with the stench of blood and bodily fluids. It took Roy plenty of strength to not gag, or cover both airways.

If Hawkeye told him correctly as she caught him bolting out, Edward shouldn't be too far. In fact, he should be in borderlines with ICU, ER, and Surgery, just in case. So that would basically be, that room, that was dimly lit, with the door wide open.

He walked in, just as a nurse excused herself out, eyes bolting around the room, observing the weird mechanical appliances hooked up to the blond, especially the tube that rammed into his still throat. And, as his eyes followed to the needles and bandages, his eyes fixated onto the boys lifeless face, a bloodied gauze practically pasted to a wound just inches from his temporal.

"Oh Ed…" His voice shook, as his body slumped. He stood still, just observing the boy, as the mechanical shit kept wailing, keeping Ed's condition in tact. Eventually he moved from the foot of the bed, and shrugged off his coat, placing it around the back of a chair, that he sunk into, placed right next to Ed.

He had never been a parent, nor did he have a great figure of one… But he believed that if watching over a rebellious kid who talked smack to you, and drove you nuts, but always worried and hardly in check, then he was in some form, parenting. Edward and Al were always in his sights, defenses, hell, even Hughes died keeping all this news about them being in danger from Roy, only to keep Roy in line for success. Roy, had developed a self proclaimed parental figure, and he was sure everyone but Ed, noticed.

His eyes dropped, glimpsing to the BPM from time to time, making sure that his tired state wasn't just hallucinating the rhythmic beat.

Edwards heart placed slowly, almost as if near demise. This worried Roy greatly, his face clearly showing it as he clenched Edward's still hand.

"Kid," He managed to huff out sarcastically. "You're driving me insane here." He chuckled lightly, removing one hand from the clasp he had over Ed's, and bringing it down to his pocket, pulling out his pocket watch. It was rather late, and very exhausted.

He silently contemplated on whether he should stay, or go and rest. But something told him to stay, because even though the blond was completely immobile, he had the greatest worry that he would spring onto his feet, and begin another flee. And, well, he was about the only state alchemist in the hospital at the moment; so an escape would be pretty easy.

Slowly, he lowered his head, eyes fighting the urge to stay open, as he began to drift into sleep. But as soon as his eyes closed, and he was basically asleep, a light stir ripped Roy from his light nap.

First it was the turn of a head, then the clench of another's hand, and finally, the sound of choking.

Roy immediately woke, staring at the now fully awake teen, who was fighting to breathe.

His dark eyes looked to the tube going down the boys throat. He couldn't do it himself, he quickly realized that, and upon so, got up from his seat, and ran towards the hall, yelling for a nurse.

One acted quickly, running towards the room, past Roy, and immediately towards Ed, asking Roy to restrain him as she cautiously pulled the rather long tube from the boys throat.

As soon as it was completely out, Ed sat up and heaved, looking around with terror ridden eyes, before he hunched towards the ground, and vomited.

* * *

The room was silent now, Ed's head wobbled lightly from side to side as he tried to fall asleep, but to no avail.

"That damned noise…" He spoke barely above a whisper. "What is it…? It's irritating…" Ed stated, pressing his eyes shut.

Roy looked away from his papers, and turned towards the boy, a brow knotted. He sat up, listening, and upon realizing the all too familiar noise, he stared at Ed. "Fullmetal, that's just the rain…" He sat still for a moment, then leaned in, lightly resting a hand over the teens dewed forehead.

"… Rain?" Edward repeated, as if the word were foreign, eyes slightly opening.

Roy observed the boys expression. "Yeah…" He sat back. "Fullmetal… Have you forgotten of anything? Anything else? You know why you're here, what day it is, et cetera?"

Ed scoffed and nodded. "Yeah, we've already talked about this. You found me in my hotel room, bleeding to death, cause as you so bluntly stated, I sliced my arm open."

Roy remained silent. That happened over a week ago. He wanted to tell the blond this, but he was here due to a second attempt. But he didn't, weary of the boys condition. Instead he sat up, and, glimpsed towards Ed. "I'll be right back… I have to talk to the doctor."

Ed quietly watched as the man walked away, spared the witty remark, and usual kick out, and silently waited, trying to doze off to sleep as the storm continued to play.

Marcoh honestly had no good explanation. The boy waking up was not anticipated, however, memory loss was hardly expected, since the bullet didn't hit the brain, but barely scratched the tissue.

The exhausted doctor caved further into his chair, elbows pressed against his thighs, fingers interlaced as he brought them to his mouth. "Colonel… Do you think he's… Perhaps… Lying?" He suggested with cautious eyes towards the younger man, who paced about, eyes observing medical props and painting on difficult anatomy.

The Colonel paused, and turned to Marcoh, with rather irritated eyes. "From what you've medically analyzed, it seems as though he's lying… But…" He walked towards a chair, across from Marcoh's desk, hunching over, elbows pressed against his thighs, as on forearm hung lose, and the other stood upright, his hand cupping his mouth. "But…"

Marcoh's brow arched, and he changed positions, hands pressing against the chairs arm rests, as he sat up and further towards Mustang. "But?" He asked, turning his head lightly. "Are you suggesting that we pass his claim? And take it into an account of honesty?"

"But his eyes…" Roy quickly responded. "His eyes seemed honest. They didn't wince or dart away as they usually would.."

"Due to the drugs we are putting into him." Marcoh quickly stated.

Mustan looked to him, eyes weary, and a deep sigh came from his lips.

"… Roy," Marcoh sighed, leaning against his desk. "I know that Edward is like your very child, or sibling, however, you must take into account that he is mentally unstable, and will do anything, _**anything**_," He pressed with stern eyes as Roy tiredly listened. "To lie to you in order to fulfill his insane wish. Do not take his every word into honest account, **believe **me…" He finished.

Roy watched quietly, hand cupping his chin, resting his head atop it, slim eyes wearingly narrowed. "Yeah," He abruptly murmured, looking away, eyes falling to the ground, sighing as he sat back into his chair, arms falling onto the leather arm rests. "Yeah, I know…"

* * *

Edward sat up, golden eyes observing the room.

Of course he remembered, how? He only guessed he did a sloppy job on his last attempt.

But instead of pondering it, he needed out, he needed to escape, -his eyes rolled-,_ again_.

No longer though, did he have the ambition to kill himself. Now, he had to just disappear.

He couldn't quite understand the change of mind either, but, he didn't really care for an answer. But if there was one, one can guess you could call it annoyance.

The thrill to accomplish, amazing, however, the aftermath was always the same. Sound's rather frustrating, doesn't it?

His hazel eyes focused on every mechanical item that breathed and sang. If he were to remove these things, surely the would start to collapse, and noises would start to go off. So he had to work fast.

He looked to his automail arm, surprised that it was still there. This only proved that Barry the Butcher was smarter then both Roy and Marcoh.

He leaned over, hands close to closure, ready to be placed onto the bed right after the initial clap.

Edward faced the bed, eyes towards the open door, exposing the empty hallway.

Now was his chance.

Eyes turned towards the mattress, and, he clapped.

* * *

Roy paced towards Ed's room, a slight mechanical dysfunction catching his attention, more than it did Marcoh.

The doctor excused it as a mechanical issue, that the boy was fine. But Edward's well being wasn't worrying the Colonel, it was the possibility of anything. This kid was titled a prodigy at age 12, after all.

He excused himself as he walked passed a countless amount of people who were in his way, his eyes searching for that room, which he barely missed as his boots passed towards the now closed door, his hands opening it immediately, nearly breaking his wrist as he did, but the door barely opened.

The rooms have no locks, he urgently remembered as he managed to push his head through the wide crack, brows furrowed.

"… Floor alterations…" He hissed with narrowed dark eyes, looking towards the bed. His eyes ent wide for a moment, then, returned to their angry state. He pulled his head out, and slammed a fist into the door.

His heart beat intensified, blood boiling, he didn't even realize Marcoh was beside him.

"Colonel Mustang, what is the meaning of this behavior?" His tone was angry, but he seemed far from it.

Roy turned to look at him. "Call Lt. Hawkeye, Havoc, anyone from my unit. Fullmetal is now a militia fugitive. We must capture him, before he runs too far." He ordered in a harsh tone. Slowly, he recollected himself, looking over the older man, towards a rather large build across the hall, Armstrong no less, who was walking towards him with a suspicious glare. "Before it's too late…"

* * *

**A/N- I hate being a girl, because most of all, I hate Bra's. Every time you have to get a new bra, the straps are always itchy and painful. I have to do something about that, lol, I'm already a 38 C! DX, and I know there are people reading this in a far worse position, lol.**

**Anyways, people might wonder why I took it over the top and added a black body bag, if Ed wasn't claimed dead on sight. Well, I was going to add this little tid-bit in-**

"But, the black body bag…?" Roy quietly began, confused, as Riza looked to him with reassuring eyes.

She leaned over in her chair, trying to keep matters quiet. "To respect him, we didn't want others to see who it was."

**And there you go, lol. I didn't add it cause it seemed out of place.**

**Well, I hope you guys are reading, and sorry it took so long. Things happened, my literature skills were starting to plummet again, so I had to regain some of that through practice and some research. But I hope you guys liked it. Share with your friends if you think they'll like this story too.**

**And my my, don't you have to wonder why Armstrong's there of all places? And seemingly pissed?**

**You won't like it XD, rather bad news.**

**Also, I was watching Valkyrie earlier today, as in, 1, 2, 3 am, lol, and I couldn't help but analyze Tom Cruise's character, Colonel Claus von Stauffenburg. I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, Hiromu Arakawa, took Colonel Stauffenburg's personality, and laced it into Roy's. If you haven't watched the movie, then you kind of have no idea what I mean.**

**And I win, since Microsoft Works Word Processor doesn't know how to spell Valkyrie.**


End file.
